Sweet Cheeks!
by NiyuChu
Summary: [KaiMax Drabble] Max finally convinces Kai to spend a long-due night at his house, cheek-pinching smiles ensue.


_Naya reporting in, freakin' hell it's been eons since I've uploaded any writing to this account (you won't believe how long it took for me to recall my password) and longer still since I've engaged with the Beyblade community, something I never thought I'd find myself immersed in again (in my defence it's been 12 years since the show first aired in ol' AUS, I was six) but my sister got me watching the episodes again and interested in looking into fanfiction. To my great dismay there's hardly any more KaiMax (the OTP that's better than your OTP) fic than there was when I last checked this archive, a whole 6—7 years back. A national (international?) tragedy that had to be rectified. My sis and I also spent some good time last week ranting about how infuriatingly angsty most KaiMax fics (or really, most fics about Kai or Max, period.) are and how it's so insulting with this pairing because KaiMax is anything but. Anything but. So many fics also have Kai hate Max (how dare you) or Max be scared of Kai (second of all HOW DARE YOU) which is the stupidest fucking thing Max not being scared of Kai was obvious when I was six. So to right the reap of countless wrongs I'm going to try my hand at writing KaiMax fluff. Sadly I'm a discovery/character writer and circular plots are not my strength so really this is an extended fluff drabble — don't anticipate any dramatic build up of any sort. There is none I say this now. Made even worse by the fact that I kept throwing in ideas as me & my sister's discussions came up with them. But I tried, I tried._

_Just a quick note that I've been using the Japanese edition of Beyblade which is quite different from the English dub (for one ding dong dizzy is dead thank you based satan) as reference. A few names are different (Tyson=Takao, Hilary=Hiromi, Hiro=Hitoshi, Max's surname=Mizuhara, I think these are the only ones mentioned.), Kai is far more soft spoken and less sassy, and Beyblades are simply called "Beys", but the main thing to take note of is that Max in the Japanese edition uses some English in his speech (just for short simple phrases, usually) and it's the cutest thing — so cute that this fact alone makes that version so much better than the dub and I wanted to use it in my fic and sadly that's a teeeeny bit difficult when I'm writing in English. I've decided to try denoting it by using bold text to show when Max says something in English. Gulp, I hope that's clear and doesn't disappoint the flow because it's really too cute, but yes, if you see bold that's what it means peeps._

_Oh, lastly this is set some time not long after G-Revolution — I'd like to say within 6 months of the ending._

_Now without further ado, here's some KaiMax fluff!_

* * *

_Whirr whirr thunk clang whirr _

A masterfully directed bey slamming against the fencing and reeling back, rinsing and repeating — talk about being right on the money. Not that Max Mizuhara had expected himself to be wrong some people could pretend they were as mysterious as they liked, until _he_ got to know them well enough.

Now that he thought about it, masking his transparency was probably the one thing Kai Hiwatari couldn't pull off with pure willpower alone. That thought brings a fond little smile to Max's face as he rounds the corner.

_whirr thunk whirr shwoop ring ring_

The bicycle bell wants to disturb the routine with its cheerful ring, but Kai wouldn't be, well, _Kai_ if he doesn't catch onto his presence first and return that bey to sender. His palm closes tightly around the (probably uncomfortably hot to the touch) bey as he turns to face him.

A small-half-_youcouldseeitifyousquinted_—smile twisted at his lips.

"Oh. Max."

"**Welcome back, mysterious stranger**."

Max leans his weight left and stamps the floor, grounding the bike. He was winning this smiling world championship by a landslide.

Kai averts his glance, straight at the fence. Then he scoffs, but there is a little crescendo into a laugh at the end of it. Of course he knew Max was only playing.

"I saw you all a week ago," he states it bluntly all the same.

Max laughs as he tosses his legs over steel, bounding right off the bike and into tackle momentum, throwing his arms around an unsuspecting Kai who still has that painted face averted at the moment of impact. OK, he doesn't hold the cuddle(—_him-while-smushing face in that too-big scarf and-ruffling the back of Kai's silly overgrown hair_) for long—not out here anyway, he didn't miss teasing Kai that much after just a week—but long enough to feel Kai's solid chest stiffen and then relax into a long sigh. He's used to it by now. So used to it that his arms just relax on instinct around the slimmer boy these days and as firm as those forearms were, it only made Max's escape from his self-initiated hug all the harder. But who was complaining, his hugs, like much the rest of him, were _world champ material_.

"I know, I know. But a week is a long time for training out in the wilderness, Kai!"

Even for you, Kai. _Even for you putting off settling on your new place to live._

Oh don't get the wrong idea, Kai hadn't defaulted on his previous rent plan and been evicted—you could thank automatic payments for that—no, the building had just been decades old, run-down and had set off a number of health and safety flags in a recent survey, forcing it to be closed and marked for much-needed demolition as opposed to existing as yet another abandoned structure in this endless city of the same and so as of a week ago Kai had been forced to find a new apartment or dwelling otherwise.

The whole team been _deeply _sympathetic to his plight, of course, and offered to help him in scouting out a new place. One that allowed pets. Infinite pets. As a second resort in the event that he failed to take up Takao's initial offer of _"you know you could just officially live with us, Kai, you've already slept here more nights than Hitoshi has in my life time. Just say the word and you're in!" _again.

Kai had ended up _not_ saying the word but still crashing there, so nobody knew if the plan was to actually live-live there. But given that he took off again on one of his training trips the next day, well, it was evident he was avoiding commitment to something. But that was Kai for you. And for Max.

Kai's eyes are now trained on Max's knuckles, which are still persistently squeezing and swinging his wrist even if he's un-hugged him by now. He cocks his head at the fence.

"Are you here for Kinomiya, Max? My things are with him, but he's not in."

Max dips a hand into his hip and waves a hand dismissively. Come on now, they both knew that Kai's possessions (whatever they were, considering Kai's bey was right there in his hand and he honestly couldn't think of anything else the guy had kept in his old apartment that hadn't been pre—provided) — were _completely_ irrelevant to his livelihood.

"I know he's not here, he's out of town! And me? I'm here for you."

Kai stares and opens his mouth and closes it again in a way that makes it clear that he doesn't know which question to ask first. Then his concern for Takao and more specifically all the training he could very well be doing at this very moment while Kai is here making small talk instead of _also training_ and keeping up wins out.

"Out of town?"

"Yup, to Tokyo! The BBA Revolution got called in for some highly exclusive interview that's going to appear on national TV, they went off to do the recording. Grandpa went too since it turns out they're meeting with Hitoshi there and he hasn't been around in who knows how long. Don't worry, they got a bus, Grandpa isn't driving again.

They'll be back Monday I think but we'll see the interview live before then—I wouldn't hold my breath though, we all know I had to be the one to save Takao's fumbling face on live camera back in our Team BBA days. Just _what is he going to do without me._"

Max lets a long mock-sigh flow but Kai's deadpan "Oh" punctures it. Max goes back to waving his hand.

"**Don't worry Kai**, Takao isn't more intent on spending time with Hitoshi than with you, if that's what you're thinking about. Heck, I don't even think he's there for the cameras—there's a fan meet and greet involved apparently. We know him well enough to be pretty sure that's why he went."

"I wasn't worried."

Max has to pause to giggle at..._the transparency_. Again.

"Anyway! The good news! Takao wanted to let you know but he couldn't contact you so he had me do it instead—" Oh, he'd forgotten how long much he enjoyed rambling on and on and watching Kai's arms fold ever so tighter together as he waited for him to get to the point. "—He left a key in the mailbox in case you came back, only there's nobody to cook for you in there right now, so here's the plan Kai — you're coming to stay at my house this weekend!"

And before Kai can so much as react with the shock reserved for "_that wasn't the point I was expecting you to get to—_", Max has yanked him by the arm again, pulling and tugging bike-wards, protesting Kai's reflex to dig his heels into the ground.

"...You came to get me for this, Max? No, of course you did. But really, I can just—"

His nails bite into Kai's arm, and there's the handwave again.

"Hey, you're not getting away from me again, Kai! Come on, Takao's out so it's not like we'll be missing him, and you're the only one I've never had over, even Daichi spent a couple of nights! What else are you going to do Kai—you're more than welcome to use our dish and you've been out for a week now, you're so tattered and can use some of my clearly proven to be superior shampoo, let me take care of you."

Another sigh from Kai's end, the longest and most drawn out so far. But—come what may—he stops resisting.

"All right, fine. I'll stay with you Max. I guess."

"Awesome!"

Kai's hesitation was still visible in those eyes but Max was sure it would come to pass and that he had the stray cat on a leash at last. He releases Kai and makes for his bike, spinning around so he's walking backwards and patting the seat—"Kai, do you know how to ride a bike? If I sat on your lap we could just use this and don't have to walk. Or maybe if we squished up real tight! I would let you sit on my lap but you'd break little ol' me, haha—"

His laughter is melodious and he's practically skipping ahead in time with it, Kai striding in his wake with stiff arms hanging at his side and face beginning to blare a faint red in response to those suggestions.

"You can ride ahead if you want to, it's not like I don't know the way to your house, Max."

Well, that's what Max thinks he'd heard, judging from a combination of what little he actually heard of that mumbling, lip—movements, and the fact that he actually knew Kai. He continued to laugh brightly—making small talk with Kai in public very rarely got much anywhere, but that didn't mean he was going to stop trying with the silly suggestions and the play flirting. He was too excited to not — he'd been looking forward to this for who knew how long now. And getting such an unyielding crimson rush out of Kai's face this early into the night, that was just the icing on the cake.

Filled with a sudden rush of impatience himself, he drops the bike against the now neighboring rock wall and bounds back towards Kai, who has just come to trail so far behind. Goodness, Kai really shouldn't be left to his own devices, could he.

Their fingers locked together and there he was, holding Kai's pre-pre-pre-rematurely roughened hand in his cushy own and tugging him along, gripping the bike handle in the other and leading them into a sunset as bright as his hair.

"Max, I know the way—"

"**Come on Kai!** You know, we should watch a DVD tonight. I promised I'd make you watch a Disney move one of these days, remember that?"

He sighs a little, eyes still well—trained on their joined hands. "You've only mentioned that how many times, Max. Did you pick which yet?"

"Yes! I think _you'll_ love Oliver—"

Scoff. "Oh. They made a movie about that Princess—"

"—Ha! That was Olivier, silly, and it's not one of the Princess movies — no, no Oliver & Company's about a cat. Cat in New York."

Kai didn't respond, but his pupils dilated a little. And his legs slowed. He was _interested._

"You'll like it! You know, I brought it to Takao's house once but he didn't want to watch it because the theme of thieves in New York brought back some bad memories and launched into a rant about that, I guess I can't blame him toooo much, he did get his bey swiped but still...oh, Takao..." he's sighing and then bouncing back into a laugh "...I am at fault for ruining it for Rei, though. We did watch it together all the way through but I couldn't help but talk about the premise of a cat new to a big city."

Kai's chuckling now, low and under his breath but _honest to good chuckling_ all the same. And — probably subconsciously, but still, he was actively aiding the arm swinging. Cliche as it was, Max was more than just bouncing now, he was fluttering. With these butterflies in his stomach.

"—So much to do, so come on! Come on! **Let's go Kai**!"

And somehow he was running all of a sudden, and running with such charge that he had Kai doing the same in his wake. And things couldn't be better.

-3-3-3-3-3-3-3-3-

"Papa, this is Kai, Kai this is—"

"Uh, Max, I know who Kai is—"

"Ha ha, of course you do Papa buuut he's never been our guest before so why don't we have a little formal introduction?"

They were standing in the Hobby Shop, and okay, this far Kai had been before so _maybe_ it wasn't fair to for Max to making such a big deal out of it just yet. Kai definitely thought so, as he stood there paces behind Max and making every effort not to make eye contact with his would-be host. That much was easy enough to ignore though—unlike this tickly-tingling-feeling going on beneath the skin of his palm, like his flesh itself was rallying in protest against the absence of the soft grip that had been there pretty much the entire way here.

He could use a kitten right now.

The old man is laughing a laugh that carries enough of his son's teasing quality that Kai should have noted the warning signs already.

"—Oh come on, it's not like you're introducing me to your girlfriend here, Max."

"Is that really how it is, Papa?" He tosses a playful little wink that Kai couldn't _for the love of him _tell whether it was directed at Max's father or at him but one thing was for certain.

He could use a kitten _and_ an escape route right now.

-3-3-3-3-3-3-3-3-

They're in at last, Max having relayed off the dinner requests to his father after Kai failed to answer the relevant question, and Max has already hefted himself up atop the kitchen counter and squeezed his hands together excitedly, swinging his legs back and forth...even more excitedly. Kai stood beneath him, leaning up against said counter, arms folded and set to spend the whole evening in that one place unless directed to do something different.

"So! Up to you, anything you want to do first?"

He wasn't expecting a vocal answer, Kai was much too...well, Kai to come out with initiative while being hosted by someone else, even if they both knew that he knew that _Max knew_ what the answer would be if he wasn't so Kai.

"Well then, what're we waiting for, lets head down to the dish and you can show me your new moves, Kai."

_Ding dong door number A is correct_. Kai Hiwatari's highly varied interest is perked and he pushes himself off the wall, and a smile cracks through that contemplating face as though all of that blatant teasing hadn't happened. If Max Mizuhara was a world champion of one thing — well, another thing — it was knowing how to get Kai engaged in whatever the situation was, without fail.

And after a little blading to shake the surly cat out of his funk the road was paved for the real fun.

-3-3-3-3-3-3-3-3-

Now strategy king or not, Max felt awfully silly about miscalculating one thing tonight—and that was how _downright bad he'd feel if he prematurely cut-off their blading session_. The thing with Kai and training though was that any cut-off was premature — there'd be no natural end to it and more importantly no natural end to the spirited smile that laced Kai Hiwatari's face as his eyes chased dranzer around that dish, the corners of said smile perking higher and higher with every clash. All hopes to spend increased time doing something else on the one night they had perfect opportunity to just that aside, he wouldn't trade seeing this for the world. Even if Kai's shoulders were heaving up a storm. A forecast that came with 108% chance of sweat rain.

All Max had to do was upkeep the challenge, and commend Kai on his honed techniques — both of which he was absolutely thrilled to do. _Wasn't he always. _Kai was more than deserving of that. And he wanted Kai to know it.

…Even if that meant there was no stop to their training until his father came down to announce that dinner was almost ready ("There's no need to knock, Papa, it's not like we're making out in here! Just the next best thing". Kai concentrates on his bey. Harder than Kai usually concentrates on his bey) and subsequently caught sight of Mister Sweaty and insisted that Kai should feel welcome to use their bath before eating. By which of course he meant _for goodness sake you haven't showered in a week you've lived in a forest for a week and you look like you just ran a thousand mile marathon, take a shower GODDAMNIT. _

Of course he didn't need to go that far, because Kai silently returned his bey and moved to do as directed (The shower was as good a place as any to avoid responsibility) but Max caught him by the slick hand before he'd managed to follow his father out of the basement door.

Kai turns, and Max meets his eyes with a bright smile in place, set on banishing the unmaskable disappointment in being cut-off out of Kai's.

"That was a **GOOD PRACTICE**, Kai! We should keep going in the morning, then you can really show me how you do it."

He swung and squeezed that palm for good measure, and sure enough a flush creeps across Kai's daintily painted cheeks before a little smile crosses it. But he's not the only one feeling the sparks behind his cheeks, and in...other places too. Oh, was it going to be hard to shake the memory of Kai's face and its progression over the last two hours from his mind.

He lets go and watches Kai exit, not even trying to make his sigh come out as anything short of an extra lavish one of longing. Then he can't help but see Kai just five minutes later ("Hey Kai, don't worry I'm not peeking on that toned body my eyes are covered, just going to nab your clothes and take them to the laundry, OK? I've left some fresh ones on the counter, might be a little snug but they'll fit, I know it.") before he's down in the kitchen again, helping his father set up.

"So this is the plan to sate the picky eater, eh son? I have to say you've got good thinking."

"You can say that again, Papa—" Max chimes, still not done squiggling mayo shapes atop Kai's soup. A bey, a phoenix — well no, not quite he wasn't that precise with the mayo nozzle, it was more a chicken than anything but he knew Kai would understand the sentiment — a heart, a cat face. Mizuhara Max, world champ at fitting the most egg goo doodle into a small noodle bowl that by all accounts should not hold that much "—You know though, Papa, I don't think Kai's really all that picky, eating just isn't...mm, it's just not important to him. So he forgets sometimes."

"Eating, not important? Huh, Max I don't think that's quite how it works—"

"That's just how Kai is, Papa. If it's not...huum, exciting enough for him to get passionate over, it's not important to him. I know, he's one of a kind but that's what I like about Kai."

He beamed down at his (now complete and rendering the surface ratio to about 80/20 mayo/soup) masterpiece.

"Besides, that's what we're here for. To make things a little more exciting for him. That's my other favorite thing about Kai, watching him get passionate."

"Ha ha, well you know Max, I think the most excited one here is you. Look at you, dancing to set a table."

He was right, Max was practically shimmying his way around the counter, squeezing his legs together as his hands swished the cutlery about and into place on either side of their noodle bowls. Rather dangerously at that.

He laid down the last soup-spoon and twirled — honest to good twirled — back to behind his own seat.

"Oh, well I'm not going to deny that Papa. What can I say, spending time with Kai is my little passion."

His father blinked. He knew his son, or at least told himself that he did, but the boy's choice of words still had its way of confusing him beyond all limits.

"Errr...so you _are _dating him?"

"No! Well, no I don't think so, dating implies more organization and planned outings. That's not Kai's thing, Papa. He's not concerned about formalities like that, Kai's alllll about feelings."

He cupped his cheek in his hand, elbow lounging on the table. He gazed at his own soup, covered in mayo hearts and mayo smiles. _Art._

"But heehee, I know how I feel about a little kiss and a cuddle with Kai, and call it just a hunch, I've got a sneaky suspicion I know how he'd feel."

"Uhm...I see, well, at least you're happy. That's your business and all I need know, I suppose. Pass the mayonnaise?"

Max just can't help but giggle at his father's increasingly redenning face. _He_ never had any problem talking to his parents about his string (and what a long string it was) of crushes and what sweet things he dreamed of doing with them — irrespective of if they were celebrities, teammates or rabid bit-beast hunters, but he supposed he understood why discussing the topic wasn't on the forefront of _their_ passions.

"Haha, it was you who asked, Papa!"

He tossed the mayo over. His father caught it with practiced ease — mayo bottle baseball was a honed art in this household — "Thank you, but hm, where is the guest of honor? He's been in the bath awfully long, hasn't he?"

"—Aha, well that's Kai for you, he might have forgotten where he was and just ended up standing there. He does that sometimes." Giggling, he plunges up in his seat, "Don't worry Papa, I'll go get him—"

He bolted off, leaving his father calling after him — "Oh, err...don't go barging in there while he's showering Max, just knock. Let him take his time—"

"—**It's OK**!"

-3-3-3-3-3-3-3-3-

He hadn't really decided if he was going to heed his father's advice or not until he actually got up there, but there was no sound of the water actually running when he got there which led to the conclusion that Kai had finished showering, and he was free to enter—Kai's reflexes were good enough for him to draw a towel over himself if he didn't want to be seen—and enter he did.

"Kai, are you OK in here, dinner's all set—"

He clicked the door shut behind him as he said it, and both sounds had Kai, who yes was finished showering and so was instead idling before the bathroom counter, turn around. Max's face burst into the brightest smile of the night.

"**Oh my gosh**, Kai, you look so cute!"

An enormous American college hoodie with the name of the institution Mama had worked at before the PPB emblazoned across the front, she'd gotten it free and given it to him years ago when she'd still been employed there. It was big on Max even now (American sizing, _what._) but the thing fit just snug over Kai's shoulders, and his broader torso. Down low Max knew that Kai had less baggage to snag into the bag, so he'd just given him a pair of his usual (turtle printed) boxers.

He'd taken Kai's own clothes to the laundry with the ulterior motive of forcing him to put on both.

And was it a pay-off.

Kai didn't think so, apparently, well, definitely, given he turned back away with a low disgruntled sigh.

"Cute!"

" Max, do you have to—"

Max would have none of that good old _lacking self-esteem_ business though, and promptly leapt at him for another of his pounce-hugs. This time Kai's arms shoot out to catch him. Probably on reflex, but still. Max nuzzles his cheek in the fabric.

"Warm, hm?~"

"I...suppose..." Kai speaks to the ground and relaxes his arms. Waiting for Max to detach himself. But Max knew that if he really_ really_ wanted him gone, he'd just let go all together. Max unburied his head a little, gazing upward now. Kai was a little red faced (which had nothing to do with hot water steam, he was sure) and puffy cheeked and fresh cheeked, oh speaking of cheeks they were bare.

Oh, so maybe there was a possession aside from his bey that Kai ought have needed for the night.

"Oh, that's right—Takao has your face paint. Well that's okay, I like_ this_ look!"

"Hu—"

Max didn't let Kai finish that one. This whole situation—the homely warmth of their cushy little embrace supercharged by Kai's hoodie, the whole situation with the bare face, Kai's moment of surprise—it presented too much opportunity for him to just pass it up.

He nipped up on his toes and planted the sweetest little kiss smack bang where those dumb blue shark fins would have been on any other day.

"**Sweet cheeks!**"

And wow was that sweet. He'd expected the skin to be a little softer, but no, Kai's face was coarser than it looked. And hotter. Even though he was still kinda wet. There was something even better about that though, like he was tasting all of Kai's hardened passion for himself. And speaking of hard and hot—

"_Mmm..!_"

—Well, his heart sure was beating hard against his chest, his blood warm with affection and comfort.

And as for speaking of sweet Kai was a strawberry right now (if his damp and lank hair was green this would have been ideal), eyes as wide as pennies and trained so purposefully away as he tried to process what had just happened. Transparency was not, hadn't ever been and would never be Kai's ace in the hole and the question of "_Did Max just kiss me on the face in his bathroom_" was so blatantly plastered across his features.

Max squeezed again (not that he needed to — Kai had frozen completely, his arms were a metal brace around his back) yes, he most certainly _had_ just kissed Kai Hiwatari on the face, and the next question upon that face was "_Did I like it_."

Something about that silence, just call it a hunch, told Max that he had. And then the faint little smile that cracked Kai's stunned face cemented that answer.

"Max..."

Kai muttered it so quietly that he was drowned out by Max's dulcet laughter, but Max still heard him. And it was all he needed to hear. Within a moment he'd untangled himself from Kai's shocked—stiff arms and taken his hand again. And he was pulling again.

"Come on Kai, dinner, then we've got to watch Oliver..!"

Kai could only blink after him, still stunned beyond measure. Did he even know that he was smiling? Max didn't mind — that was Kai for you, he wouldn't know for a while. Not until his cheeks hurt.

* * *

_And that's that folks! I hope it's pass-worthy, I admit I struggle quite a bit with writing Kai so I gravitated towards Max's POV (Max on the other hand was my childhood hero, and my appreciation for him has grown eleventy—fold after watching it in Japanese aaaah!) but I have always adored Kai too (I think the reason he's a little tricky is because he's quite different in Japanese and I was trying to capture that version more. It might take more practice, very few episodes have subtitles) so I did my best to do him justice, let me know what you think. Though I maaaay have gotten the inspiration to write this from wanting to see Kai in an American-style college hoodie._

_Thanks again to my sister (Ariados on here!) for proofreading this and helping me with writing Kai a bit. And for making me feel a bit better about still liking Beyblade at eighteen because she's twenty-one._

_But yes thanks for reading and I hope this made you smile. Because that's what KaiMax is all about folks, smiles!_

_— Naya!_


End file.
